the merry month of may

{cross posted at the nefaeria blog}

 

The last few weeks have been a busy juggle of celebrating Bealtaine and preparing for some pretty big changes that are just around the corner {more on that in another post}. To make it a little more challenging, some of my Bealtaine activities had been waiting for the weather to comply.

Even with the unpredictable weather though, I have been taking every chance to appreciate the natural beauty of this time of year.

lilacs

periwinkles

Yesterday I consecrated seeds, which will be planted on Friday along with my seedlings after I do a garden blessing. Some hardy annuals and colder weather crops such as lettuce and kale have already been planted.

 

My Bealtaine water and rowan wood for the year were collected a couple of weeks back and I have even got to harvest some herbs.

 

sweet woodruff, periwinkle flowers and wild ginger flowers

stinging nettle

There has been some crafting going on around here too, including a candle to represent my hearth, which was ritually lit after last year's candle smothered. With a bit of luck, this candle will last me until next Bealtaine.

 

Near the end of April my "seasonal altar" was set up for Bealtaine, or perhaps better described as a shrine to Flidais and the wild critters. Over the course of the last few weeks daily devotionals and offerings were made.

 

 

 

For the "big do" I created some May boughs and a May bush and made nettle soup, bannocks and butter.

 

The house was sained and a Bealtaine blessing was said and our "hearth" was smothered and re-lit.
 

I hope that everyone else is having a lovely May!

Sláinte!

Laurel

bealtaine blessings!

Summer has come, healthy and free,

Whence the brown wood is aslope;

The slender nimble deer leap,

And the path of seals is smooth. 

The cuckoo sings sweet music,

Whence there is smooth restful sleep;

Gentle birds leap upon the hill,

And swift grey stags.

Heat has laid hold of the rest of the deer—

The lovely cry of curly packs!

The white extent of the strand smiles,

There the swift sea is. 

A sound of playful breezes in the tops

Of a black oakwood is Drum Daill,

The noble hornless herd runs,

To whom Cuan-wood is a shelter.

Green bursts out on every herb,

The top of the green oakwood is bushy,

Summer has come, winter has gone,

Twisted hollies wound the hound.

The blackbird sings a loud strain,

To him the live wood is a heritage,

The sad angry sea is fallen asleep,

The speckled salmon leaps.

The sun smiles over every land,—

A parting for me from the brood of cares:

Hounds bark, stags tryst,

Ravens flourish, summer has come!

~Summer Has Come, an early Irish poem translated by Kuno Meyer
 
I wish all of my readers a lovely Bealtaine {and a lovely Samhain for you folks in the Southern Hemisphere}!

Sláinte!

Laurel